


It Started Out As A Feeling

by Erulissë (NanaAdder)



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Romance, F/M, Ficlet, Inspired by Music, One Shot Collection, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Time Skips, my collection of ships Which have no homes at present
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2018-12-23 17:26:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11994519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NanaAdder/pseuds/Eruliss%C3%AB
Summary: A Collection of oneshot musically inspired drabbles of my rarepairs and various points of their lives. I might turn some of these into bigger things, but we'll see how it goes.1. Thranduil/Aredhel2. Galadriel/Maglor-more to be added





	1. The World Spins Madly On : Thranduil/Aredhel

**Author's Note:**

> Aredhel and Thranduil through the ages, a flighty noldorin princess with a standing still sindarin king. The humor, and the grief which would be intertwined with one who plays with the mortal realm, yet returns every once in a while to ground herself.

_Woke up and wished that I was dead_  
_With an aching in my head_  
_I lay motionless in bed_  
_I thought of you and where you'd gone_  
_and let the world spin madly on_

* * *

  
  
A hundred years had bled into a thousand, then two, time only a blur to the Elvenking. His forest had remained intact following the second drowning of the world, and while time existed outside of its enchanted edges, Eryn Lasgalen remained unchanged.  
  
As did it's king.  
  
Still he hunted, and traded with those mortals who would keep silent about where he was,  for safety was paramount these days, with empires rising and falling. What was it now? The Greeks,the Romans? Or perhaps a different set entirely. They were nothing like the mortals of ages past. They weren't honorable men.    
  
A thrum went through the forest, a presence old and kindred announcing itself through the very leaves themselves, and Thranduil knew well enough who it was. Only one would so brazenly enter his realm with little heed to the seeming frights he'd enchanted around the woods, intent on keeping strangers out. Only one would come and go as she pleased, with little care to whom was left behind.    
  
A head of dark hair crossed his vision soon enough in his favorite spot, a raised brow with cheerful eyes looking at him questioningly as she dismounted from her horse.  
  
Aredhel.  
  
Returned from Valinor sometime in the second age, it was one of the strangest occurrences that she'd decided to latch herself to him as a friend. Her with her flighty ways, she never stayed put long enough to settle down, too terrified of being trapped as she had been in the past. Not that she ever said it aloud, she didn't have to, he knew. She wasn't hard to decipher, he never had to look far to gauge the intent of her thoughts.  
  
As she approached, his gaze swept down her figure, something different in her fashion than the last time she'd come. "I take it the Romans have fallen?" He questioned. "Or have they finally come to their senses concerning fashion?"  
  
Aredhel laughed and looked at her attire, her riding clothes much closer to those of their own kin in times past than before. "The Romans are still there. Granted empires have changed their headquarters. They're now in Turkey." She replied, flopping down beside him with her own strange grace. "Constantinople. Though it goes to show how much that empire is in decline."  
  
"I take it that king you mentioned last time is no more."  
  
She grimaced. "Nero. Yes, yes he's gone. Some time ago thankfully, stabbed himself. Good riddance to bad rubbish, I say."  
  
"And yet you still find mankind fascinating." Thranduil replied, looking down at her. "I question your sanity, *mellonin*."  
  
"No need to. I know I'm insane. But I find mortality so vivacious, it's hard not to be intrigued." She paused, peering up at him with an apologetic look. "You excluded of course. Beneath that exterior you're rather full of passion in your way."  
  
There was always that caveat, an addition every time she mentioned the dull life of living in one location for eternity. She was childish, in all his long life he'd never met an elleth so intent on staying like a babe in so many ways. Evidenced by her standing and wrapping her arms around him in an embrace, his own limbs coming up to her back as the inevitable words tumbled from her lips:  
  
"I missed you."  
  
Thranduil raised a brow at the sentiment, as was always his way, his hands staying firmly upon her back in an unspoken wish to keep her there. "And yet you choose to stay with the humans." He replied.  
  
A laugh followed, and as always her head tilted back and she bestowed one kiss to his cheek in affection before parting from him. She had no desire to make her presence odious. "Well, maybe one day I'll be a little more mature about this, but I'm afraid today isn't it. What with the regime soon falling, I'm curious just what's up next in the realm of tragedies of humanity. At some point, I'm sure I'll have enough and come back like a good girl... but now is not that point."  
  
Was it ever?  
  
"But come, tell me how things go in your kingdom. Surely something has happened in my absence."  
  
It was, as it always had and would likely be until the end of their days. She was impossible to keep down, and despite Thranduil's deep urge at times to lock her within his realm to himself, he could not force her. And so, as she flitted up to her horse and withdrew a satchel containing what was likely her planned meal for both of them, they set about the comfortable atmosphere they had grown used to over the years.  
  
A quiet companionship, which both found just shy of satisfying.  


* * *

  
_Everything that I said I'd do_  
_Like make the world brand new_  
_And take the time for you_  
_I just got lost and slept right through the dawn_  
_And the world spins madly on_

* * *

  
  
How long had it been since she'd visited, she wondered idly, her fingers toying with the glass set upon the table before her. A rounded tally of years forming in her brain as she half listened to Lord beside her. She was never any kind of intense flirt, but she found herself doing so from time to time in playful retaliation. Alas no lord held a candle to Thranduil, even if they burned it at both ends, and while they chattered on in an attempt to amuse her they would soon enough find that she was as unattainable as the holy grail.  
  
As amusing as she found that comparison.  
  
The sound of flutes began to play, and her attention was diverted from the dull Lord to the dancers who soon filled the hall. Her eyes caught the gaze of a familiar friend, a soft chuckle leaving her as she watched Anne dance with the king, a teasing dance they both seemed to play making her draw comparisons. Sometimes she felt as if there was a dance between herself and Thranduil, though nowhere near as heated as it was between Henry and Anne.  
  
Well, not outwardly anyway.  
  
And nowhere near the amount of foreboding that she felt when she saw the two of them were felt when she was in Eryn Lasgalen. At times like these she wondered if it was wise for her to stay with the mortals... perhaps Thranduil was right. It would only end in heartbreak.  
  
Invited to a dance, she was pulled away from troubled thoughts for now.  
  
Several weeks later she found herself on the outskirts of the forest as she had so many times in her long life. Questions had been asked, as they always were, and tales told about how those who entered that forest never came out again.  
  
It was hard not to laugh when such things crossed her experience, and breaking away from the hunting party she'd gotten herself a part of, she had entered the realm, immediately feeling as if she had been transported to a different time. Though she'd gotten questioning looks from the gate's guards, it didn't take long to find him once she'd entered his fortress, though she stayed in the shadows for a moment to compose herself.  
  
"Don't stand in the doorway, *hir vuin*. Either come in or leave." Came his voice, earning an eye roll from Aredhel before she entered. It didn't surprise her to see him reading some letters, one hand holding a glass of wine as he didn't bother to look up.  
  
Typical.  
  
Not caring, Aredhel sat down beside him, inwardly groaning at the fact that corsets were the trend of the last few hundred years. They were too confining for her tastes.  
  
There was some silence before Thranduil broke the silence. "What happened to your sleeves?"  
  
"Sleeves?"  
  
He pointed to the style which had her underdress showing through the cuts in her sleeves with intense concentration. She nearly laughed at his look, brows scrunched together, fully confused. "Have the humans messed up your dress and you're too kind to point it out? Or have they forgotten the rest of your sleeves all together?"    
  
"It's the style, Thranduil." She answered patiently.  
  
His look of disgust wasn't missed. "It looks clumsy."  
  
She couldn't hold back the laugh, picturing the originators of that style hearing that with complete astonishment. "Well the men are worse, in my opinion. At least we have floppy sleeves again." As if to make her point she stood up and waved her arms.  
  
A small smile twitched at his lips, a smile which it had taken her years to realize was just for her. "You're acting like a child." He commented. "Though you're not walking around in my kingdom dressed like that."  
  
Her face fell, and so did her arms. "Apart from you, this is quite stylish, you know. I do my best not to look frumpish."  
  
"...frumpish?" There was that look again, this time she laughed.  
  
"It means---" She trailed off, groaning at the headache this would induce. "I'll explain it after I go change." She said. "If only to keep you from complaining about my 'clumsy sleeves'"  
  
 "Good."  
  
She chuckled. "Ah, it's so lovely seeing you again, Thranduil."  
  
"And yet you stay away for hundreds of years." came his reply as she walked out.  
  
Ah yes, no Lord could hold a candle to that.

* * *

  
_I let the day go by_  
_I always say goodbye_  
_I watch the stars from my window sill_  
_The whole world is moving and I'm standing still_

* * *

  
  
"Why am I not surprised you decided to relocate to Ireland of all places?" Aredhel's question came upon her next visit, taking her shawl off her head and looking around. She wasn't sure how she felt about the difference, though he was closer now that he'd been in some time to where she resided. Ireland was closer than Germany after all, and much more attached to the old stories of their folk than the Germans.  
  
"That should be obvious." Thranduil replied from right behind her, breath ghosting over her ear. She shivered, sending him a playfully chastising look over her shoulder as she continued her gazing exploration.  
  
She sighed, settling down on the chair which was set in his quarters. "Is it the war that moved you here, Thranduil? Or merely a change of venue?" She asked, all playfulness aside. "With Napoleon causing havoc all across Europe I wouldn't be surprised if it was the former over the latter."  
  
His brow rose, arms firmly clasped behind his back as he paused a moment before reply. "What makes you think my reasoning has anything to do with the mortal?"  
  
"Because there's such a thing as canons and guns now." Came her reply. "Things which we didn't have back in the former ages. A stick of gunpowder and a fire could explode parts of the forest if he so chose."  
  
All he gave her was a stare, words unspoken yet understood. She should know as well as any: he did not change for this world. "You worry too much about the changes of this world."  
  
"I don't think you give mankind enough credit for the damage they can do now." she replied. "This war has devastating effects, more than any war has had in the past. The Romans came at each other with catapaults and swords--- but now? Now, I think we're entering a new era."  
  
Thranduil hummed.  
  
She sighed, shaking her head at him. If she were honest, she had been concerned, deeply so when it came to him and his realm when she found out war had been declared. The leaps and jumps of these modern times were something which settled badly with her. It was one thing when men were fighting against each other with swords and staves... this time it was but a telling of things to come.  
  
"...I was worried about you."  
  
There was a pause. "You have no reason to be."  
  
Grey eyes narrowed upon him, then set their sights upon the floor in frustration. "Of course not." Finally came her voice, and her pointed stare. "Except in the fact that while I may live in the world out there, you are all I have left. As... sentimental, and childish, and whatever else might be said as that sounds, it's true."  
  
Silence followed.  
  
"Just please don't die because you're too stubborn to admit there might be some danger."  
  
He gave an exasperated sigh-- or at least she thought so. "Do you really doubt my abilities so, Aredhel?" he questioned, disapproval clear to her.  
  
She merely smiled, and standing, she slipped her arms between the loops of his. "Never."  


* * *

  
_The night is here and the day is gone_  
_And the world spins madly on_

* * *

Air raid sirens blared loudly in the distance, the noise halfway deafening to Aredhel's ears as she tried to protect the screaming child in her arms, explosions going off in the distance. How long would they last here? That was her question. Englishmen were tough, she'd learned this over the centuries, with strong wills and a backbone of iron. But this constant barrage... it could break anyone. The sight of dead after every raid, the noise, the screams, the destruction.  
  
And yet they stood firm. Unyielding. Stubborn as all hell.  
  
The girl in her arms gave a screech as another bomb fell, this time closer to them, the ground giving a quake in its aftermath.  
  
In times like these she craved peace, the silence of a time gone by, the more gentle wars that had been in her time. How could men go on against such reckless destruction, and hell bent hatred? It was one thing for elves, she supposed, war was something every one of them knew--- and while Hitler was no Sauron or Morgoth, he was certainly a familiar player upon the scene of this.  
  
The smoke cleared, and she left London as soon as possible, using the excuse of sending several orphans out of the country for their safety to get out of the country herself. For the first time she seriously considered never returning, of telling Thranduil she was done for good...  
  
But orders were orders, and as she was now part of the SIS, and while she had been allowed this small time of reprieve she was needed back in London by the weeks end. Then she'd be sent behind enemy lines for the sake of saving who she could and preparing for an invasion of allied forces in France. England needed information, and she would do her best to provide it... or die trying.  
  
There was little humor, or room for teasing as she all but threw herself into his arms in search for comfort. No words passed her lips as she merely clung to him, not for a moment taking the time to think over how he might respond. Silent tears slipped down her face as she felt his arms lightly wrap around her, holding her in wordless waiting for whatever she did next. While usually she would prefer something said, oddly enough she was happy for the silence, after months of noise she needed it.  
  
And though nothing was said, she knew his meaning. His presence calmed her in and of itself... a grounding point in the world losing itself to madness. She couldn't have been more grateful for him, and for his understanding that right now she merely needed him to be that pillar of unmovable strength she so often teased him about.  
  
After a few moments, she relaxed her hold, pulling back to find that at some point he'd gotten someone to get tea for the both of them. She cracked a bit of a smile at it, taking a seat beside him as he turned to the work she'd taken him from with her actions. If he minded the fact that she was in rather close proximity, he didn't comment, the companionable silence enough for her.  
  
Maybe later she'd tell him that the SIS estimated her time across the channel to be between two weeks and a month before she would possibly be captured... maybe...  
  
...or maybe not.

* * *

 

 _I thought of you and where you'd gone_  
_And the world spins madly on._

* * *

 

 

The last time he'd seen her was that night, companionable silence and a quiet talk about what had brought her there concluding her time. She had to return quickly, though she never told him why, just given him a kiss goodbye and run off with a foreboding farewell. She'd kept something, he knew it. But since she'd gone centuries before without word, a mere sixty years was nothing.  
  
His life had gone on as usual, the ways of the wandering elleth were something he didn't even try to predict. She'd come when she wished, and leave whenever it suited her.  
  
...If she came at all. No matter how much time passed, there was still the belief that at some point she'd leave never to return. It wasn't out of the realm of reason, and he couldn't blame her if she had decided such. She was in the world beyond his borders. She was happy there.  
  
Though once or twice he was sure he'd felt her presence that day only for it to fade away again. Why she seemed to dance upon the border made him question.  
  
Paperwork paused for a time, Thranduil stepped out beneath the trees, the light of Tilion shining through the boughs above as it always did, the light breeze shifting them ever so slightly. The very air of the world for the past twenty years had changed, and the forest itself felt the effects, were it not for his connection he was sure it would have begun to fade away.  
  
"Thranduil?" her voice caught him out of thought and he turned, questioning glance thrown her way as she hopped down from the branches above. Her hair was blonde now, her clothes altered greatly from any time she'd come to him over the ages.  
  
"I was wondering when you'd come out." He plainly stated, watching as she took steps forward, her fingers fiddling with a larger version of spectacles she'd shown him from a hundred years before.  
  
She gave him a sheepish smile, running her fingers through her hair. "Yeah, uh... I had to make a decision and it was harder than I thought it'd be." She answered, laughing. "Well, it was easy actually. I just didn't know how to say it."  
  
Thranduil raised a brow. "What are you talking about?"  
  
Aredhel laughed again. "Wait will you? I have to figure out how to say this... I've been practicing"  
  
Practicing?  
  
He watched as she cleared her throat, a sincere look coming into her gaze before she paused, looking around with a 'wait'. Her hand grabbed his, and she pulled him into a mild clearing, her desire clearly being the moonlight it offered.  
  
"Sorry, I just wanted you to be able to see my face as I do this. Just gimme this." Her speech was lazier, and he sighed. She cleared her throat again, giving a pleading look for him to be patient. "...I've gone...*everywhere*. I've seen everything someone can see in this world. I've gone through wars, and the questionable fashion of the seventies and eighties. Of all centuries, it's the dark age those two decades." She cracked a smile but continued. "But during all this time... I've always come back, because no matter where I go, this is home."  
  
There was a blush on her cheeks as she pointed at his chest. "You...specifically." she clarified, pausing for effect. "...Thranduil, I'm tired. I'm finally exhausted... and I want to be here, for the rest of my days. However long that is."  
  
  
She stepped back and sighed. "You once told me the proper Channels to become part of this realm... I could be wrong, but it begins with some sort of application?" She gave a wry smile, trying to lighten the mood.  
  
Thranduil was quiet, his head tilting before he lifted his hand and snapped his fingers, Aredhel's brow furrowing in confusion before an ellon stepped out from behind one of the trees, looking very put out by the bundle of papers under his arm.  
  
"What...?" Aredhel barely spoke, the ellon's answer coming on the tail end of her voice trailing off.  
  
"I expect it all filled out by tomorrow." he said, dropping the papers in her arms as if he'd been carrying them for ages. "Good night." a nod toward her, and a bow to his king and he disappeared back to the shadows and left Thranduil and Aredhel alone once more. As if that exchange wasn't the most ridiculous thing.  
  
Her eyes narrowed, though not with anger, but with realization and suspicion. "How long have you had this planned?" She asked, adjusting the pile in her arms.  
  
Thranduil merely hummed and took a step forward. "Oh, every time you've come for the last few thousand years." he replied. "Rinor usually complains when you leave without having filled them out because he has to cart them back himself." She was caught between wanting to kiss him and hit him... a strange mixture.  
  
But before she could do either, he made to walk away, pausing for only a moment as his fingers threaded through her hair. "It's quite a nice shade, I rather enjoy the change." He said, that smile he reserved for her gracing his features as he finished softer. "But I prefer your natural hair color better."  
  
Whatever desire to hit him that she had was gone--- as was he, his tall frame headed back in the direction of his home, as if expecting her to follow.  
  
And follow she did. 

* * *

_And the world_

_spins madly_

_on_

**FINI**


	2. Lament for a Minstrel : Galadriel/Maglor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Galadriel reminisces about Maglor through the ages, and the loss of their relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is a little...odd to the say the least. I decided to try something new and both write from a first person POV and also just to let things flow the way they came to my mind. There's a mixture of past and present tense writing, for which I apologize, but yeah I'm just letting this ramble out because it's in my mind. Now again, this is a songfic in a way, as i listened to this song and came up with this idea. I'm still..unsure if I want to keep in the lyrics but for now yeah they're staying sorry.

* * *

 

_Hope is your survival A captive path I lead..._

* * *

 

The cold winds of the icy wilderness cut across my cheeks, a stinging reminder of just how far away we are from the pleasant pastures of Aman. Atya stayed behind I'm afraid, though the rest of us followed our uncle into this wasteland of Helcaraxë, some hearts left behind while others strive to reach the other side. You had it a little easier didn't you? All you did was sail the sea and reach the other side, and how often I contemplate what it was that made you set the ships afire with me left behind. Or was it even you? I don't know.

 

I miss you, Macalaurë. As the chill somehow makes its way through my cloak, I picture little things you might say. Would you hold me now as you have in the past, when the most drama we had to concern ourselves was with uncle Nolo and your father being on bad terms? What fools we all were then, if only we'd known that time together was so short. Maybe then I'd be on the other side already with you, instead of trying to steady certain members of our company who are losing hope. A wife instead of a simple cousin who is now alone, and unable to fully find one to express my heart to. Oh, Findekáno is very good at it at times, but I was always closest to you in a way wasn't I? Alas, what good is there in 'maybe's? There's a conversation we could have had--- or have we already? Oh how I miss your conversation, teasing or otherwise.

 

You know, the other day poor Angaráto found me laughing to myself, a memory of some day which I had forgotten until that moment. I'd climbed into a tree and dumped water on you as a joke, I can still remember your face, a playful threat given though I was ( and am still ) sure that you were quite serious that revenge would come. Angaráto thought I was beginning to fray at the edges, and for the first time I realized that though our family was aware of our close interaction, they did not think much of it. A 'simple and playful flirtation' they thought … I could only smile ruefully and shake my head at the thought. There was more to it than that, wasn't there. Quieter times when alone where a gentleness took over our conversation, affection exchanged with a type of language that clearly they didn't fully understand.

 

Then again, these are words you may never hear, for the way talk is going there are many here who despise your family, and by extension yourself. Some of our cousins, for instance, have taken to speaking more ill, or not speaking at all... I can't blame them, to tell the truth, it's a harsh crossing we must endure. Turukáno lost his wife, you know, Irissë and I believe that if it was not for Itarillë he would have joined Elenwë beneath the ice. Elenwë was not alone, either, for many have fallen in our crossing, so many.

 

I dreamt of you last night, if one could call it a 'dream', for I felt as if I had been awake despite the fact that when it ended I awoke again. At least in my rest you are there, comforting, speaking as we used to, and I can find rest in your embrace there, warm and safe. Is that how you are there? Across the sea. Safe. Sometimes I feel as if you aren't, even though I have no way of knowing either way. Is something wrong, I wonder? I wish I knew for sure. Perhaps I will soon...

 

All I have to do is get there...

 

* * *

_No matter where you go I will find you If it takes a long long time_

* * *

 

Sometimes I wonder what you think of me now, a cousin who has long been staying in the realm of one who considers you an enemy. A childish, hopeful promise to myself in a icy wasteland lost after heated words between our brothers, a distance caused which did more to drive us apart than any knife may have done upon Alqualondë's shores.

 

The last time we met, there was some sort of coldness, though you smiled as always, and greeted me kindly. This oath has consumed you, hasn't it? You're wearied with it already, and I can firmly recall how when I spoke of it to you, it made me realize that all my desire was crushed beneath the weight of whatever it is you spoke of that damned you. If I could but ease your burden, that was my plan, and hence I came here, to a realm where our kind are considered treacherous, and evil. To free you, that was my thought, to bring you and your brothers back where they belong if it was ever so possible.

 

But now I am caught in a decision, which may alter my path forever.

 

For years I have spent time here in Doriath under the tutelage of Melian the Maia, and she has kindly taught me much despite my Noldorin heritage. During this time, I have... become friends with the nephew of the king, and now I find myself caught wondering how a heart could be pulled asunder between two loves. Once upon a time I believed myself above such things, but perhaps the knowledge that what we once had can no longer be attained, and my weakness to clever conversation, I find myself liking Celeborn more than perhaps I ought.

 

Perhaps, with circumstances as they stand, it would be best to remain here. For now...at least... until my mind is clear and easy to decipher without the strange machinations of my heart interfering. Then, most likely, I will settle whatever this is with Celeborn and travel as my original plan was to you.

 

Unless, of course, something alters entirely.

* * *

_No matter where you go I will find you If it takes a thousand years_

* * *

 

Of all the ways I thought I'd find you once again, never did I believe it would be amidst bloodshed and pain, the horrible fight for uncle's jewel which by the time you arrived was not even here. You have changed, beloved Macalaurë, you have altered to a point where I half wondered if it really was you as I tried to lead some of the Sindar to safety outside of the halls. For one second, our gazes met, over a din of frantic panic. Your eyes were filled with such...sorrow... such pain... and yet, your oath bound you to continue on the path of war beyond reason.

 

You did not harm me when I stood between you and one of the many who did not deserve this pain, but when I spoke to you, that coldness of the last time crept back in. All my time with Melian had brought me to nothing, and realization that I could not free you left me without words, grateful that your sword stayed in mercy for my sake. At length you spoke, a command for me to flee, the last vestiges of whatever remained lingering just long enough for you to gather your wits I suppose. But again, I will never know will I? We were never bonded, therefore your thoughts are but a mystery to me unless I forced myself into your mind... and that... that would likely be a mistake.

 

I wonder now if you would have spared me if you had known I was with child, a child of those who proclaimed you their enemy. Celeborn has no love of our family, not anymore, for though he was temperate in the past, the death of Dior has pushed aside in him any compassion he might have felt for now. Give him time, he is a reasonable elf...

 

Made even more reasonable by a wife who feels the most compassion for all of you, my beloved cousins fated harshly due to one mistake which you cannot be rescued.

 

I'd be lying if I said that when Celebrian was born my mind was sent back to Aman again, to the daydreaming of myself not long after I found your affections ran as deeply as mine. I had pictured our children then, what they might have been like, with dark hair? Or golden do you think? Eyes of grey or of blue? Your voice in their mouths, most certainly, so beautiful and heavenlike. Yet as I looked at my daughter, with hair of silver, and features which held nothing of your resemblance, I let my younger self let the dream go at last. Artanis who loved Macalaurë had been replaced in but a few centuries.

 

And a comfort I took was that it was all for the best, and the likelihood that you did not miss me too much.

 

* * *

_No matter where you go I will find you In the place with no frontiers_

* * *

 

I've been informed you're missing now, a foolish decision which the oath drove you to take. Oh, Maglor... sweet cousin, it could only have led to mistake to do such a thing. There is too much blood on your hands, my love, blood which will only be removed by the mercy of the Valar. If they allow any of us any mercy that is. I often wonder if any of this was ever worth it. What have we earned in the end, melda? They are all gone. Your brothers, mine, all our cousins. We are all that's left with the exception of Celebrimbor and Erenion. But even then... they are not like us.

 

The years pass, and not a word is given, or heard. Those who know of you say you are likely dead, but I do not believe it. Every now and then I feel your presence on the edges of the realm, yet when I try to push toward you it is gone, like a whisper in a wind that is lost within the sound far too quickly. You're there. I know it. Whatever purpose you have in staying away, I'm sure it will not be bent until you are ready to bend it. You always held a certain stubbornness, Kana, you always will most likely.

 

But that does not mean I don't worry about you.

 

Elrond has grown strong, you would be proud of him, for in him I can see your influence. Wise and kind, yet one who clearly knows his own mind and abilities. He has fallen in the company of Erenion, and they have become thick as thieves, a pair of boys who I probably should have expected to becomes such. Fingon's son and Maedhros' son. Of course.

 

But Celebrimbor I worry for, Maglor. He is meddling where he should not, and trusts one called Annatar these days. I fear. I fear for whatever shadow may befall us in these coming days, for it runs in Celebrimbor's blood to dally with forces which should be left alone. To create things which may just tear this world asunder--- but he will not listen to me. Oh how I wish you were here, for if you were then maybe you could talk some sense into him... alas, you are... somewhere in the wild, far away from any of us. You're like some wild deer, seen only when he wishes to be, and gone just as quickly.

 

As the age draws further to war, I wonder if you'll fight. Not as yourself, most likely, I know you all too well, and you cannot risk your own name falling under lists of men who might wish your demise. But if you do I hope for one brief moment I may somehow hear of it, just to know that you're out there, fully aware of what is going on in this world... safe...for now at least.

 

* * *

_No matter where you go I will find you If it takes a thousand years_

* * *

 

She's gone, Kana. My little one. Celeborn sent word back to us here in Lorien that whatever she suffered at the hands of the orcs is far too much for her spirit and she was fading. Fading. What is it with this world that brings us so much grief? So young she is, so beautiful, and yet like a star she is being plucked from the sky and plummeting into darkness. Your son has done so well by her... and now... oh Kana he has lost so much as well. You, Maedhros, Erenion...must he lose his beloved as well?

 

A ship has borne her far, to a shore I but dream of these days. Celeborn is gone, my gallant husband wishing her a last farewell and sure to secure her safety himself. He really is quite an ellon. But with his departure I find myself alone, left to my grief without a comforter, the mallorn leaves fluttering about me the only sense of grounding I have in this moment. How far I'd wandered from Caras Galadhon I know not, but it is far enough that I know that none would dare disturb me at this moment for other matters.

 

I have not wept in an age, my tears having dried up so many years ago, loss having been so familiar they did not bother anymore. But now, there are not mere tears, but sobs from my own broken heart, torn from my throat in such a way that the very forest seems silent in grief. Perhaps it is, the trees have always been so receptive to me.

 

How long I sat here I know not, but when you suddenly arrived I was surprised, for your presence was something I had not anticipated. There you were, my comforter, my strength in this moment, and I was no longer any white lady of anything. I was merely myself. Held like I had not been in eternity in your embrace as my heart poured out all its sorrows into your chest. Were they even words I spoke? Or mere, unintelligible mumbles? Whatever they were, you did not seem to mind as you stroked my hair, and with a soft voice kept me steady when I myself wondered at why I lingered here. You were always so much stronger than you thought you were, melda, always.

 

You stayed with me until dawn, and for a night I felt as I had so long ago, the weight of so many years taken away for a few hours. Am I a fool to attribute that to you? You listened so patiently as I explained all my troubles, and recent fears which came from what had recently occurred. After some time, I rested, and when I woke you were gone once more.

 

Like a hart, you sprung back into the distance. And so I returned to my realm, feeling freer than I had in so much time.

 

* * *

 

_Hope is your survival A captive path I lead_

* * *

 

The power of the rings is ended now, and at last I can go home. Home. What a concept, for it seems so long ago that I called such a place home, but my spirit has lingered for so long I cannot find peace here. Yet, for all my happiness of returning to Aman, Celeborn has remained behind. Perhaps it is the curse of the Sindar as well, that they remain upon these shores while the rest of us sail. He told me he would come soon after, but I know he will not, he will linger here beneath the fading trees as others shall do. I cannot blame him, he has never seen the shores of Valinor.

 

Some part of me hoped you would sail as well, the last ship to leave the harbor, perhaps... just perhaps you would board it as well. Yet as my feet cross the planks which lead to the deck of the ship, I can feel your eyes upon my back, and turning I can meet you at a distance. You stand there as you always have, I suppose, a sadness and sorrow weighing at your shoulders. Some part of me leapt to see you, perhaps hoping that whatever wishes and desires I had of your company would be fulfilled-- but you don't move, and all at once I realize that it is as it always will be.

 

You have come to say goodbye.

 

There is a heaviness in my heart as I watch you give a solitary nod, a response to my thought, and with a sigh I nod in return, my back once more turning toward you as I step upon the deck which will lead home.

 

When I arrive, I'll inquire if you may yet pass upon the shores we were born upon, that you may be granted some happiness... though somewhere in my heart I know you will never do so. Your fate was sealed so long ago, with words spoken in passion and vehement loyalty. So as your figure passes from my view I know we will not meet again. Our time is long passed, and we cannot regain what once may have existed, a lost dream.

 

So goodbye, my love.

 

Goodbye.

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [So it Ends](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12288360) by [Kara_Eclipse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kara_Eclipse/pseuds/Kara_Eclipse)




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